All in the Mind
by summerbaytroubles
Summary: Being the daughter of Sherlock Holmes is never an easy task. There will always be people to compare and criticise. Irena Holmes has had the job of trying to live up to his standards and no matter how hard she tries, she can never do it. But now she has no choice - there is corruption in the government run company she works for, and everything has become a little too close to home.
1. Chapter 1

Three taps - that's what she did to focus.

"And I think you'll be very happy here, Irena," the old lady finished graciously.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

"Do you have any words? Anything you would like to say?"

 _Eyes: grey? Slight wrinkles in the corner, but not of smiling, too deep, not curved – so wrinkles from squinting. But why? Glasses around the neck, folded, not dirty in fact, a new lens...interesting._

"Irena," her aunt hissed angrily. "Answer Mrs Greys."

Tap. Tap. Tap.

 _Gold wedding ring, no engagement ring on the bottom. Simple band, slightly dirtied around the edge but not because it was worn, or because it was overworn, but because it was kept in a dirty box. Why? Not an affair from her husband, way too obvious…unless…_

"Does he know?" Irena suddenly asked loudly. Her aunt immediately covered her face with her hands in embarrassment.

"Does who know?" Mrs Greys spluttered.

"Your husband, AKA Mr Greys, does he know about your affair yet?" Mrs Greys' mouth opened wide.

 _Old lipstick, slightly stained around the edges, rouge, not more than a few days old. But not the same shade as the one she's wearing now, that's magenta. Either a sudden spontaneous change of colour in the last day and she didn't wipe the rouge properly or…oh dear._

"It's okay," Irena reached out and tapped her elderly hand gently. "The suffragettes died for this kind of thing to be accepted. Well technically they didn't but-"

"I'm not sure I follow-"

"I am of course referencing to the affair that you are having with another woman right under your husband's nose. Another woman, must be someone you don't see regularly, so someone outside of this school, someone once a week or else she would know you're married and stay clear. I'm going to say…ah lucky guess, opticians?" Irena leaned forward then, her chin pressed against her palm, intrigued.

"I…"

"Please, ignore her," Aunt Rosa whispered to a totally stunned Mrs Greys,

"It's the optician, isn't it? Oh I AM good, that would clearly explain the squinting… the squinting of the eyes when you have perfectly good brand new glasses around your neck – you purposely don't use the glasses so that your eyesight gets worse and you have an excuse to keep going back but…oh dear, you do have to stop tucking your wedding ring in that dingy little box in the corner of your bedroom because it is getting a little grubby." Irena leaned back in her chair and turned to beam at her aunt. "Yes I think I will be more than happy here."

...

"What did I tell you about doing that, Irena? That is the fourth school that has automatically rejected you, thanks to your 'fine talents'," Aunt Rosa scolded as she steered her niece into the awaiting car and slammed the metallic door behind her. Irena sighed, leaning back on the plush leather car seat.

"Oh come on, that was a good solve," she yawned. Irena began fiddling with her lighter, flicking it on and off much to her aunt's irritation. "It was the optician, such a lucky guess!"

"Seriously how do you expect to be normal if you keep dissecting everyone's lives?" Aunt Rosa continued to rant. She sat in the drivers seat and shut the door, starting the ignition.

"It's not really as bad as you make it out to be!" Irena held up her hands defensively.

"Not bad, Irena? Right, the head teacher who was a part time stripper?" Aunt Rosa began to tick them all off with her slender fingers.

"Oho, that was good. That was very good," Irena hummed distractedly. She carried on flicking the lighter on and off.

"Then there was the head teacher who secretly did heroin before and after school," Aunt Rosa continued, closing her eyes at the memory.

"Ah she was a lot of fun but also really easy – who leaves the number of her drug dealer just lying around?" Irena scoffed, turning to face her aunt properly. Aunt Rosa let out a groan at this comment.

"It wasn't just 'lying around' though, was it Irena? It was inside her drawer, which was closed, under lock and key!"

"Was it? Oh, I didn't notice," Irena muttered, staring out of the window. Honestly, she didn't understand how what she was doing was so wrong when she prided herself in her work. Well, that's what everyone did to her father, so why it couldn't be the same for her she would never understand.

"Irena I need you to –"

"Be more like my cousin?" Irena guessed hotly. Her aunt wasn't ready for the words to ever tumble from her lips and so almost crashed the car into an oncoming truck carrying oil. The wheels of the car screeched as Aunt Rosa quickly skidded away. "I would prefer not to die today, if that's possible."

"Get out of the car," her aunt hissed so severely that it almost caught Irena off guard. But she composed herself quickly.

"The pleasure is all mine. I swear sometimes I think the wrong family members died in that fire," she muttered, before recklessly opening the door in the middle of traffic and swinging herself straight out. If she couldn't find anyone who would accept her for who she was here, she would surely find them somewhere else.

 **A/N: Yes, here we go again! Sherlock's daughter is here and I'm ready to write a story full of wit, drama, comedy…everything that we loved from the TV Show 'Sherlock'. I hope you will all enjoy it! Let me know your thoughts.**


	2. Chapter 2 - Puff of Smoke

_One year later._

"You're late," Denver announced to Irena as she walked into the hustle and bustle of the office. She chucked her jacket over the chair next to her lazily. It was that kind of day really...she wasn't up for anything else. Denver stared at her, appearing to wait for an answer of some sort. Irena slammed herself into her dark grey office chair and opened the metal drawer, shoving her hand into it and pulling out the slim packet of pills. Denver simply walked to stand in front of her with his arms folded stubbornly. Irena suddenly looked up at him.

"I'm sorry, are you waiting for something?" she finally asked.

"An apology?" Denver frowned. Irena scoffed.

"Ohhhhh. Yeah. Not going to happen," she hummed, turning on the Mac in front of her. Denver rolled his eyes heavily.

"You're late," he repeated.

"You said."

"Irena, I don't know why you've been so distant lately-"

"Not distant," Irena corrected him. "Not distant. Just weary. Observant from afar. I'm here now though, aren't I?" Denver gave her a pitiful look before chucking her the small USB stick which she caught perfectly.

"Today's objective is on there. The quicker we start, the quicker we can go home before that storm later," he told her, turning around and beginning to walk away.

"I'm not the one who checks the files!" Irena called after him.

"I know!" Denver called back. "But she's not here yet - so it's all down to you." She grumbled a few profanities before sticking the hard drive into the computer. Her mind ticked away as her mouse clicked away, and in around thirty seconds, she had printed out what she needed, grabbed her coat and left the office.

Irena rang the doorbell to the beautiful penthouse apartment and stood there patiently. There was the distant sounds of footsteps hurrying toward her over a polished floor and suddenly, the heavy door swung open. Standing there was a middle aged woman.

 _Around 40 years old, divorced, remarried once. Cardigan shows she has an average job – almost too average for someone with this kind of problem. Skirt is made out of recycled cotton so – eco lover. No meat, no dairy, no smoking woman who lives alone. Fantastic._

"Can I help you?" she frowned deeply.

"Michelle Rytard? Irena Holmes, private investigator slash detective from SLATE, whichever you prefer, may I come in? Of course I can." Irena shoved the badge in her face and went straight into the apartment without any hesitation. The woman shuffled to the side and closed the door behind her, her face totally confused.

"I didn't send for two of you-" she began quietly, now following Irena who was beginning to make herself at home. Irena suddenly froze in the kitchen, noticing the air was different from where she walked in.

"You don't smoke," she muttered, spinning back round. Then it dawned on her. "Oh, brilliant. She's already here." Before the woman could say another word, out walked a slender figure. She was dressed in a black figure hugging dress and a black floppy hat, which covered half her face. Her lips were a dark plump red and she was surrounded with the smoke from her cigarette in the sleek black cigarette holder which she held in her black lace gloved hands. "Moira. I should've known," Irena rolled her dark blue eyes and turned away. Moira blew the smoke out of her mouth and cocked her head to the side slightly.

"Hello princess. You're finally here," she sang quietly. "I was wondering when you would actually show up."

"Don't test me Moira," Irena snarled. "You're not even meant to be here."

"What can I say - Denver sent me," Moira shrugged lightly. Irena watched her delicately tap the ashes into the smooth silver ashtray on the marble countertops distractedly.

"Funny - Denver sent me too."

"I thought you both work for the same people? Don't you both work for SLATE?" Michelle finally inputted anxiously. Moira and Irena both turned to her properly.

"Yes, sorry. We just have to ask a few questions and we can get down to business," Irena coughed. She settled herself down at the cream coloured swivel chair of the breakfast bar and took out the iPad, opening a new document and sliding it to Moira who sat next to her. Michelle simply sat on her leather sofa and took a deep breath.

"So let's start with the money situation," Moira got down to business. "You said you transferred £200,000 to the safety of SLATE and it was taken and completely drained before they even received it?"

"There's no record of the money ever reaching your banks," Michelle confirmed quickly. "I spoke to the president of the company and he denies its existence completely. It's insulting really because I know I transferred it."

"So you're implying...that it was stolen?" Moira concluded, putting the cigarette out completely. "Stolen online?"

"Yes. And I would like full compensation because I know it reached your records."

"Right. Well I can't promise they'll agree to do that but...may we have your bank details anyway?" Moira nudged Irena slightly with her elbow, a nudge that asked her if everything seemed okay. But Irena didn't know what she was missing here.

Something was off and she couldn't figure it out, the more she stressed herself about it, the more she began to panic. Suddenly, her skin began to crawl and get hot, the most unpleasant feeling in the world. Reaching into her back jeans pocket she felt the rim of the tablet packet, popping the back of it so one small rounded tablet came out. She put it in her mouth and immediately calmed down. This was normal for her when she felt pressure.

Suddenly, everything was clear.

 _£200,000 transferred directly to Slate, no one has any record of it and the money hasn't even touched our accounts yet. The cardigan suggests she's in an average job but anyone with that amount of cash surely doesn't have that kind of money to just give away to a government agency. Moira's ashtray – ashtray in the apartment but she doesn't smoke so-_

"Who sent you?" Irena suddenly asked. The air fell silent. Moira sighed and pulled out another cigarette - she knew what this question meant.

"P-Pardon?" Michelle stuttered. "I did." Irena let out a little laugh. Totally in control again.

"You're nervous now - that stutter hadn't developed until I asked that question. This isn't your house. Everything polished but not a sign of being used, not even for a clean person. Everything except one thing - the slightly dirty back door windows. Why would you clean everything but them? You didn't offer us a drink or biscuits at all, why? Because you have none. No bin liner in the bin, no fingerprints in the surfaces - this isn't your house. You were sent by someone to do this, presumably to kill us, who sent you?" Michelle's breathing became incredibly irregular then, as she reached into her back pocket she began to cry.

"I'm sorry," she sobbed. Moira didn't move, she just continued smoking graciously.

"Yes, me too," Irena muttered. Within a second she had pulled out her own pistol and shot Michelle clean in the shoulder. She let out a screech of pain and fell backwards before she could even get her own gun out of her pocket successfully. Moira simply hopped off the swivel chair and stood over her.

"Again, I ask you," she whispered, kneeling down so she was closed to her level. Blood was spilling everywhere at this point, pooling at their feet. Moira removed the cigarette from the shoulder and swiftly pressed it into the bullet hole, basically putting out the cigarette in her wound. The sickly sound of burning flesh and screaming hit their ears. "Who, sent you?" No reply.

"Well done genius. She's passed out," Irena yawned.

"Shoot. I've always wanted to do the burning of the flesh trick," Moira frowned, hopping back up.

"Yes I know," Irena smirked. "That's why I shot her for you."

"You're a true friend," Moira rolled her eyes. She snapped her gloves back into place and took out her sleek black mirror to re-apply the lipstick. "The story was ridiculous anyway. As if Vixen could ever hack SLATE."

"Even if they did there would be record of foul play in our systems," Irena chewed her bottom lip. She grabbed her coat and threw it on.

"Yeah well," Moira mumbled, fixing her hat. "Maybe next time."

 **A/N: Yes first of all this chapter is so long, I apologise! Secondly, it's just an insight into the two main characters and what their jobs are, what they do and how they work together. There are a few hints and keywords in there but anyway, here comes the full storyline! Thirdly, MERRY CHRISTMAS!**

\- **J x**


	3. Chapter 3 - Calm in the Storm

"I swear when we get back in there, I'm most certainly firing Denver," Irena told Moira as they speedily returned to the office. Moira smirked and held open the glass door for her.

"After you m'lady," she bowed slightly.

"Why thank you," Irena hummed back, sashaying into the room. They noticed everyone beginning to pack away for the day, hustling and bustling together in both excitement and relief. Denver, who was bending over the computer screen whilst squinting his eyes, glanced up at the sound of the opening door.

"How was it, ladies?" he called out.

"It was good, yeah, nearly died, Moira made the chick faint, you know the usual," Irena replied in a grumble, sitting back down in her black leather swivel chair. Moira let out a little chuckle and logged into her own Mac opposite Irena.

"Great, great, that's fantastic news. We sent the 'clean ups' to go and finish the job for you, and to take care of any mess you've made," Denver muttered back. He still hadn't looked up from his computer screen properly.

"Oh thanks for that, can't have the carpets getting stained," Irena rolled her eyes unenthusiastically. Moira glanced up and caught her eye with a little smirk again. "Denver, is there anything else for us to do or can we actually go now?" Denver finally stood up straight and turned off his Mac.

"No that's it, you can leave. Thank you for what you did, though. I know how last minute it was of me to call you." Moira stood up as well, zipping up her large black fur jacket.

"May I ask, what are we planning to do about Vixen?" she questioned whilst Irena stood up also. Denver turned to her and frowned, the elderly lines deepening in his head.

"Oh Irena, you should know by now that I don't directly deal with anything to do with Vixen. I prefer not to get my hands dirty," he tutted rather politely. Irena and Moira glanced at each other and raised a sceptical eyebrow, Irena's even higher than Moira's.

"I'm not Irena," Moira broke it down slowly. Denver did a double take, his grey eyebrows now furrowing into each other till they became one.

"Ah…I could've sworn-"

"We don't even look distantly similar…" Irena trailed off helplessly. Moira just raised her hand in front of her, signalling for her to stop talking because there really was no point.

"Oh I almost forgot, Sam came in a second ago," Denver moved on, doing up his dark chocolate coloured suede jacket swiftly. Moira rolled her heavily made up eyes but Irena was certainly interested.

"Sam Anderson? He actually came back from his little hiatus? Wasn't expecting that!" she scoffed. Denver laughed lightly and led them outside the office, through the white washed hallways and into the steel lifts to take them downstairs.

"Yes the Sam Anderson himself," he said. Moira took out another cigarette and placed it in the sleek black holder in one swift movement. "Personally I don't understand how he even made it through these front door in the first place."

…

Irena whacked her fists on the door that led to the room she knew Sam was in, unable to contain her irritation. "Alright, ALRIGHT! I SAID ALRIGHT, I'M COMING!" he yelled back. She took a step back and waited patiently for him to answer. Eventually, the door swung open and a tired, irritated looking Anderson stood there. When he saw Irena he rolled his eyes and looked like he was about to slam it shut again, but Irena wedged her foot between the door and the door frame so he couldn't.

"Don't try it Anderson, let me in right now," she hissed through the small crack in the door. Anderson cocked an eyebrow up and gave a nervous chuckle.

"Why are you in such a fantastic mood today?" he blinked, opening the door for her so she could walk through.

"Oh for gods sake Anderson I'm not in a fantastic mood as sarcastic as that was, I am just shocked that you had the pure cheek and audacity to take a break from SLATE when it suited you, therefore resulting in leaving Moira and myself to clean up after your mess that you made that never even touched!" Irena snapped. She slammed herself down on the soft armchair closest to her and threw her head back dramatically. Anderson just sighed and followed her in.

"Well you're certainly not the happiest I've seen you. And I didn't really take a break, it was more a holiday to find myself-" He stopped after seeing Irena scowl at him. "And besisdes it's not only me! There are two others in this team you know!"

"Yes because Luther's certainly going to help, and the other nutter – not a chance! Lecter wouldn't even try." Irena rolled her eyes again. "And anyway, what were you doing all this time? Have you actually found yourself yet or are you still not too sure who you are?" Anderson rolled his own eyes this time and sat down opposite her with an extremely sceptical look on his face. "Anderson. I don't know why you're treating this like it wasn't a serious issue-"

"Well it wasn't."

"Anderson, I need all the information that you can give me about the issue at hand immediately!" Irena mumbled. Anderson sighed deeply and his eyes fluttered shut as he attempted to rack his brains and find an excuse.

"I don't know what you mean." Irena got up from her chair and walked over to him slowly, stopping right next to the chair and looking down at him. She blinked a few times before opening her mouth to speak some more.

"I think you do. I think you do know that I 'm clearly referring to the possible extinction of our company and everyone that works for it as we know it," she hissed threateningly. Sam let out a groan and covered his face with his hands.

"You are aware that the situation at hand is classified – meaning we're actually not meant to know?" he asked her seriously after moving his hands back away. Irena just stared at him.

"I don't care! I literally do not care! GIVE ME THE DAMN INFORMATION ANDERSON." Anderson sighed and chewed on his bottom lip.

"Fine. But promise me something," he finally muttered.

"What?" Irena breathed out.

"Don't try solving this case. It's too big for you, too dangerous and let's face it – too many chances for you to die. So don't do it, okay?" Anderson begged her, standing up and walking over to where he kept his USB sticks.

"Okay," Irena shrugged.

"I mean it Irena. Promise me," Anderson threatened. Irena groaned and threw back her head, bored of this all now. Anderson was still looking at her expectantly.

"I promise I won't try and solve this case," she lied.

 **A/N: OMG HI. WHAT'S UP? So I've forced myself back into writing, and I'm not even sorry. I'm honestly so excited to carry on this story and ARGH. Love to you all! Question is…Moira or Irena? Who do you prefer!**

\- **J x**


	4. Chapter 4 - Every Single Element

Late at night, Irena sat on her kitchen floor. Flicking through her papers, she sang a little song to herself with a smile on her face. There was so much information in front of her but she just couldn't decipher where to begin. Even for her, this was fantastically difficult. She was so unsure about it that she got to the point where she wanted to call for help – serious help. So she did. "Oh for goodness sake Irena it's really too early for this. What the hell do you want?" Moira sighed. Her voice was full of sleep which made it start cracking in places and it was irritating Irena already - she preferred Moira to be alert and awake.

"Sorry, did I wake you up?" Irena hummed. It was clear by her tone that she didn't actually care at all.

"Oh does it sound like I was asleep?" Moira hummed bitterly.

"Yeah, I know, terrible right," Irena muttered, putting down the papers in a distracted manner.

"Seriously Irena? Are you even listening to me?" Moira yelped.

"I can't lie – no. So listen, I need you to come over here as soon as possible," Irena started on a whole new topic. Moira stared at her phone in utter disbelief, as if it had come alive.

"At this time of night? Are you insane? Have you absolutely lost your mind?"

"Maybe! But regardless, I need your help, and I think it's with something that you'll be interested in," Irena tempted her slyly. Moira let out a sigh and Irena knew that she had done it.

"I'm going to need a dark chocolate latte, a soft plush pillow, and a stack of Rich Tea biscuits," she whispered before snappily hanging up the phone.

"That's what I thought," Irena breathed. She couldn't help but feel proud of herself. Around twenty minutes later, Irena was no closer to finding out what this big case was about and she was getting more and more irritable because of it. The harsh ring of her buzzer interrupted her messy thoughts, causing her to throw down the paper she was clutching and leap up to answer it. "Oh thanks for finally turning up!" Irena rolled her murky blue eyes once she had opened the door to see Moira, standing there in her long fluffy black coat and giant ink coloured hat. Moira stood there and stared at her in shock as Irena turned around and continued to walk through the hallway and into the living room.

"Oh DON'T take that attitude with me! Whose fault is it that it's 3 in the morning and we're about to open a secret case? Where the hell did you even find these – she's not even listening to me," she trailed off slowly, closing the door behind her and leaning against it. Irena had already gone straight back to the pile of mess, the stress of it getting to her head. "Oh Irena you are SUCH a little-"

"Moira, we could sit here and argue about what I am and what I'm not, but could we possibly save that for a different day?" Irena called out in a voice laced with boredom from where she sat in the other room. Moira clenched her jaw and slipped off her coat before walking to where her partner was. She froze once she saw the mess laid out on the floor.

"Oh you have got to be joking me Irena. You couldn't even tidy it up a little? You couldn't even attempt to make it look a little neater?" Moira spluttered. Irena looked up at her and shrugged, going back to her work. In reality, she completely forgot in the heat of the moment that Moira suffered from OCD. Irena could make sense of anything regardless of how it looked by the power of deduction whereas Moira preferred to do the quick thinking when it was all ordered out in front of her. It just made everything just that little bit easier.

"Apologies," she mumbled. Moira sighed. She didn't want to go anywhere near the mess, it was hurting her head just looking at the scattered papers, so she whipped out her sleek black cigarette holder, quickly placed the cigarette in it and gave it a swift light in the space of ten seconds. Irena looked up at her and felt the smile crawl onto her face. Moira was about to come up with a solution – she just waited for her to take the first smoke. Moira fluttered her heavily made up eyes shut as the thick swirls of smoke exited her mouth and fogged round her. She took a deep breath and spoke.

"Where did you get these papers from?"

"Anderson," Irena answered immediately.

"Anderson gave you these papers? What, in a binder?" Moira frowned whilst taking another breath of smoke.

"No, he gave me the USB, I printed them all off." Moira rolled her eyes and exhaled, going over to the iMac in the corner of the room that the USB was still sticking out of.

"You love to do things differently don't you? You couldn't just open the folders via PC, the normal way," she sighed as she settled herself down in the chair next to the desk.

"I prefer to have the papers in front of me Moira. Come on, you know this," Irena grumbled, pushing her thick black hair from sticking to the sweat on her face. She was clearly stressing out but had kept her composure as she did.

"You just love being your dad, admit it," Moira tutted. Irena didn't say anything because actually, that wasn't in any way true. She hated being like him.

"Have you found anything?" she asked instead. Moira was already halfway through looking at the files on the computer.

"I'm looking."

"And what's so good about having it all on a screen anyway?" Irena challenged her whilst putting down the twelfth piece of paper that hour.

"The fact that they're all in folders make it that much easier to get what you were looking for," Moira explained with a hint of obviousness in her voice. Irena hopped up and stood behind her as they both looked at the files on the screen. "You see? This folder is called 'Mission Brief', so we can open that-" Irena peered at the screen, seeing that something wasn't right.

 _Top secret mission, nobody is meant to know. But Anderson had it, out of all the people. Why Anderson? How did it fall into his hands? Why is this not encrypted? Even if it was and he broke it, why doesn't the encryption come back every time it's put in a new computer? What am I missing? What's…_

"Wait, Irena, do you have the page titled Mission Brief printed out somewhere? This one isn't loading fast enough," Moira frowned in frustration as she put out her cigarette onto the table and clicked the document again and again but to no avail. Irena rushed over to the heap of papers on the floor and rummaged through them, her mind running at thirty thoughts per second as paper flew out of her hands and into the air.

"No, no, no," she hissed exasperatedly. "I can't find it! I don't even remember-" Moira could sense she was panicking.

"Irena! Pop one and calm down," she whispered as smoothly as she could. Irena reached into her back pocket and yanked out the thin foil strip, popping the circular pill straight out into the palm of her shaking hand and shoving it into her mouth, swallowing it and squeezing her eyes shut, waiting a few seconds.

Suddenly, everything was clear.

 _Did I ever read it in the first place? No, the file wouldn't open then either so I couldn't print it out. Everything else but that one opened. That's why it didn't make sense, the objective was the only thing missing. But why would every file open apart from…_

Irena immediately went pale and spun around.

"MOIRA, STOP TRYING TO OPEN THE FILE, IT'S A-"

Gunshots.

Multiple gunshots rang around them, smashing the apartment windows and going straight for the girls.

 _And THIS is why I prefer printed information._

 **A/N: So sorry this took so long. I am really loving this so far, so I'm excited to see where it goes. Sending love to you all**


	5. Chapter 5 - No Such Luck

Irena was the first one to come to, cracking one eye open amongst the dust and rubble around her. She didn't want to get up yet – anyone that was after them would surely be waiting for any sign of movement so they could finish the job if necessary.

So she lay there.

Silence was now taking over her senses and she really didn't like silence - she had to do something. But Moira was already one step ahead. "Denver, it's Code Rouge," she was hissing into the small device on her wrist without lifting herself from the floor. Irena turned her head at the speed of lightening once she heard her speak. "Send help right now," Moira continued to whisper as she looked dead into Irena's worried eyes.

"What was that?" Irena muttered once she knew Moira was done.

"I have no idea. Somebody is really not a fan of us," Moira told her as quietly as she could.

"Us specifically? Or whoever they thought had the information?" Irena thought out loud in wonder.

"Irena, there's really no time for that right now. The nutters that this did are probably waiting for any type of movement, we need a plan of some sort so let's focus on the how and when rather than the who and why," Moira told her firmly, knowing that once Irena started thinking of theories, she would not stop until she came to a solid conclusion. Irena knew that too – so she put a lock on it for now. They were still lying flat on the ground, unsure of what to do next.

"Moira," Irena then snapped in a sudden realisation. Moira raised a perfectly shaped eyebrow and frowned at her partner.

"What?"

"Take the USB out before Denver comes. He really cannot know about this." Moira rolled her eyes and shook her head.

"So when he comes and says 'HEY, who tried to kill you guys and why?' We're gonna say what? 'Oh, we don't know. It was probably a mistake'?" she scoffed.

"That's exactly what we're gonna do," Irena stated as if it were obvious. "Moira, what part of 'top secret: we're not meant to know' are you not understanding here?" Moira opened her mouth to reply but was interrupted by the sudden bang at the door, groaning as the SLATE SWAT team came barging in with their guns pointed all over the place.

"Better now than never boys," Moira called out to them, now assuming it was safe to sit properly as she heaved herself up. Irena did the same, watching the SWAT team look around the place with their guns still raised and 'Slate' branded on their uniforms and helmets in interest. The chief, Thomas, marched over to the girls and held out both of his large gloved hands for either one of them to take. Moira took his hand immediately and jumped to her feet before grabbing her black hat and fixing it back on her head. Irena was a little more cautious with her movements.

"Ladies?" came a voice from the doorway. They both turned around at the sound of the voice they only knew to be Denver. There he stood, in his velvet black coat and his dark grey scarf wrapped around his neck. He looked irritated but mostly concerned, the wrinkles in his forehead deepening. Irena stood up straight and fixed her hair as the SWAT team started to look around her apartment.

"WOAH! Boys, I don't know how I feel about you going through my stuff," she snapped, standing in front of all the papers that were now scattered over the floor.

"What were you two doing?" Denver asked them gravely, slowly walking toward them. Moira raised an eyebrow and stayed quiet but Denver looked directly at her, he knew that there was no point asking Irena but he assumed Moira would somewhat tell the truth. But she didn't even open her mouth. "Really? This is the game we're going to play?"

"It's really not anything major, Denver," Irena lied directly to his face. "I just don't want these big burly men in their dirty boots marching all over my apartment like they own the place." Denver let out a disbelieving 'HA' and bent down to pick one up.

"DENVER. Seriously," Moira stopped him suddenly. Denver looked up in shock and felt his hand snap back to his side. "It's nothing. They're just some old cases that Anderson had dug up."

"Anderson?" Denver repeated. "What was Anderson doing with old cases?"

"It was part of his 'Find Myself' regime," Moira shrugged, running her fingers through her dark fringe that was poking out underneath her hat.

"Well no 'Find Myself' programme would cause Russian bullets to fly through your window," Thomas scoffed before sweeping up the majority of papers near his feet and peering at whatever they said.

"I'm sorry, since when were you even authorised to do that?" Irena yelped, but Moira yanked her arm. The more irritated Irena became, the worse the case would sound. Thomas gulped and shoved the papers under Denver's nose so that he could see. He took them into his own hands and Irena could only watch in horror as his face drained of colour.

"Girls, back to the office, now," was all he demanded coldly. He turned to the SWAT team and did the signal with his finger, which told them to find any evidence and bring it afterwards. The girls had no choice but to comply.

The journey in the car was silent. Not a noise came from either Irena or Moira, they just muted themselves as the black car with tinted windows sped through the night air. But they were silent for two different reasons. Moira was tired, and actually took a nap without a care in the world. But Irena was thinking and could not stop thinking, as much as she wanted to. It wasn't as if she knew what was going on – but she definitely felt something was bigger than she could ever imagine and it scared her. Once the car stopped, the girls knew they were there and they opened both the doors and slid out, opening the building doors with their fingerprints and swiftly walking through. Denver was in front of them and turned his head without even looking at them directly. "Go into the Meeting Room. I'll be in there soon," he told them before snapping his head back round and disappearing down the hallway.

"Did he just say the Meeting Room?" Moira asked tiredly, skidding to a halt.

"Yeah he really did," Irena muttered.

The Meeting Room was were their division of SLATE met to have discussions and tactic plans…not where they usually got in trouble. Moira walked a few more steps and turned to the right of her, right outside of the Meeting Room door. She opened it and stepped through with Irena right behind her – but they were shocked to see who they saw. Sitting there was the rest of their team – Sam Anderson, Alexandra Luther and Kara Graham. Anderson looked extremely tired and was almost asleep. Alexandra was a beautiful girl with light caramel complexion, large chocolate eyes and loose curls in her hair. She was wearing what looked like a onesie and was sipping a mug of strong coffee with less than any enthusiasm. Kara was just wild. She had a strong jaw, clear blue eyes and untamed dark blonde hair cascading her face. She was near to insane – at least that's what the others assumed. They all looked up as the girls walked in.

"Oh. There they are, the reason I ain't getting any sleep tonight," Alexandra drawled as she continued to sip from her mug. Irena rolled her eyes and leaned against the wall with her arms folded. Moira just took a seat next to Anderson with a sigh. "What did you two do?"

"We tried to solve the Anderson case," Moira muttered, glancing up at Irena. Sam let out a tired laugh and slumped further into his chair.

"Even after I said not to do it?" he guessed. Alexandra raised an eyebrow and pushed her coffee away from her.

"What Anderson case?" she frowned.

"The one that you tried to solve before," Sam informed her without thinking. He immediately saw his mistake and winced, slumping even lower. Irena's head snapped up and Moira turned to face Alexandra.

"You tried to solve the case too?" Moira hissed. Alexandra's cheeks flushed and she carefully avoided all eye contact.

"I mean…didn't we all try? I assumed that we would all find it and-"

"Why am I the last one to have it? How does that even work?!" Irena spluttered, more concerned that she didn't find the case sooner.

"I got it FROM Alexandra," Sam admitted to them, leading their eyes to grow even wider than they were before.

"Thanks Anders. Always loyal," Alexandra mumbled, rolling her eyes.

"And where did you get it from?" Moira prompted her swiftly. Alexandra nudged her head in the direction of Kara who sat there in the black hoodie she owned, no expression on her face at all. Irena's mouth dropped, alongside Anderson's and Moira's. Kara blinked at them blankly.

"What?" she muttered.

"Kara, you had this information? You sourced it?" Moira double checked.

"I did."

"When…why…what?" For once, Irena was genuinely speechless.

"So for all we know, this thing might not even be a real case," Moira concluded as she leaned back in her chair in defeat.

"Well we nearly got shot for it, of course it was a real case," Irena reminded her quickly. That's when the others really looked surprised. Even Kara's thick eyebrows shot up at the news.

"They tried to shoot you too?!" Anderson yelped. "That's what they did to Kara."

"What?" Irena blinked.

"Shot me in the shoulder as soon as I opened one of the files," Kara informed them blandly as her face fell back again. "Came straight through my window. So I took the USB out before the SWAT team came and I gave the whole thing to Alexandra. I didn't want it anymore – still don't."

"Did they try and shoot you as well then?" Moira quizzed Alexandra, who was already shaking her head.

"Nah, course they didn't. Kara warned me about the file already so I wasn't gonna try and open that. I tried to find where the USB came from. I'm an action girl, I don't care about going on the computer and finding files. Send me out on the actual field, right?" she told them all quietly. Moria and Irena nodded, waiting for her to carry on. "Well I couldn't figure out where to begin, so I gave it to Mr Tech over there, otherwise known as Anderson to see if he could track it. Obviously I warned him about the whole folder gun situation first."

"Which I then had and didn't even have a chance to really decode anything until Irena over there came over and took it from me," Anderson finished the story. Moira rolled her eyes and slapped her hands over her face.

"Oh, yeah! Which you happened to give to me WITHOUT THE WARNING OF BULLETS FLYING THROUGH MY WINDOW ANDERSON!" Irena shouted, slamming her hands on the table in front of her.

"If you had stayed home instead of feeling the need to get involved I wouldn't have HAD TO!" Sam exclaimed back.

"So are we ever gonna find out what's happened?" Alexandra interrupted them before it really kicked off.

"Yes," came Denver's voice from the doorway. They all turned to stare at him. He had a look of sorrow and regret plastered all over him. "Yes you are."

 **A/N: Massive chapter for you there. I wonder if you could get the little clue about who the parents of the rest of their division are? It's kinda all based around crime anyway. Hope you enjoyed this chapter, looking forward to delving into the proper juicy bits of this story! – J x**


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